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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28154973">Prunus persica</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/snae_b/pseuds/snae_b'>snae_b</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Watches Aziraphale Eat (Good Omens), Fruit, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), nectarine, why not?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:34:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,039</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28154973</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/snae_b/pseuds/snae_b</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Aziraphale eyes him suspiciously. “Is this a sex thing?” Aziraphale desperately hopes it is a sex thing. </i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wherein Crowley brings Aziraphale a nectarine and things get sexy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>128</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Prunus persica</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Eat this.”</p>
<p>Crowley had burst into the flat above the bookshop moments ago, eyes wild and wide behind dark sunglasses. Panting lightly like he had sprinted up the stairs. (He had). Aziraphale, now used to the demon popping in unannounced at any odd hour, lifts his eyes from the tray of biscuits he’d been arranging for just such a visit. Not that Crowley would partake. But it seemed like an appropriate gesture. Something you do for someone you care about. Crowley is thrusting his arm across the small kitchen island, hand fisted around a round object. Aziraphale cocks an eyebrow in response and gazes curiously beyond Crowley’s fingers to the near frantic expression on Crowley’s face.</p>
<p>“What… What is…” Aziraphale starts.</p>
<p>“It’s a nectarine.” Crowley thrusts the sun kissed fruit toward Aziraphale once more. Fingers grasping gently so as not to bruise the tender ripe flesh.</p>
<p>“I know that it is a nectarine, darling. I just mean… What is this? Why…” Aziraphale gestures vaguely in the fruit’s (and Crowley’s) general direction and trails off as he takes stock of the demon in front of him. Crowley is still holding the nectarine across the island in one hand. The other grasping the edge of the countertop, knuckles white under the grip. His pupils are visibly dilated even behind the dark lenses. The skin of his chest, exposed (quite pleasingly, Aziraphale notes) by his low V-neck tee, is flushed blotchy pink and his chest is still rising and falling quickly under his labored breathing.</p>
<p>Aziraphale can’t help his automatic reaction to seeing Crowley in such a… familiar state. He doesn’t look unlike he had when Aziraphale had dropped to his knees in front of Crowley in this exact spot just the night before. He is momentarily flooded with the memory, floats there in the recollection. Fumbling with the fly of Crowley’s skin tight trousers and struggling even more to yank them over his narrow jutting hips. Wrapping his mouth around Crowley and unravelling him bit by bit. A pleasant pooling tingle settles into Aziraphale’s stomach as blood rushes decidedly south.</p>
<p>“Eat it.” Crowley repeats, and it sounds as if he were begging. “<em>Please</em>.” Okay. He is definitely begging now. More blood rushes south and Aziraphale feels his heart thud just a little faster beneath his ribcage.</p>
<p>Aziraphale eyes him suspiciously. “Is this a sex thing?” Aziraphale desperately hopes it is a sex thing.</p>
<p>Crowley scoffs as his eyes dart away then back again. “It’s…No… I mean…” His mouth opens an inch. Closes again. After a brief pause he finally rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. “Fine. Fine. <em>Yes</em>. It is a sex thing. Now will you <em>please </em>eat the bloody nectarine?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale cocks his brow again and tries his damnedest to look disapproving but he can’t quite keep the grin from the corners of his mouth. Crowley shakes the dappled fruit at him one more time and Aziraphale finally reaches across the counter and takes it from him with a not totally convincing sigh. His fingers tingle lightly where they had brushed Crowley’s, still not completely able to believe they can touch like this. Without worry. Without looking over their shoulders.</p>
<p>He holds the fruit up in front of his face and examines it under the sunlight slanting in through the window. It <em>looks</em> like a regular nectarine. Smooth, ruddy skin interrupted by stretches of brilliant gold, suggestive cleft along one side. The skin is soft under his fingers and he squeezes it gently. Even from a distance he can smell the ripe inner flesh beneath. His eyelids flutter closed as he inhales deeply. When he opens his eyes he finds that Crowley is leaning halfway across the counter, both hands now gripping the lip of the countertop. His bottom lip is clenched lightly between his teeth as he watches Aziraphale without blinking. Aziraphale reaches for the small paring knife in the block to his right. “No!” Crowley nearly shouts, catching Aziraphale’s hand with his own before he can pick it up. Aziraphale can’t help but chuckle quietly at the demon’s urgency and Crowley releases his hand sheepishly, drawing back to his side of the island. “Just.. just eat it. With your mouth.” Crowley mumbles as he mimes biting into the fruit.</p>
<p>Aziraphale isn’t entirely sure this isn’t some kind of trick, but he figures he may as well indulge the demon. He is terrible at saying no to him. At least after the not-so-apocalypse. After that whole glorious mess he was overflowing with <em>yes</em>. He had said <em>yes</em> to “our side”. <em>Yes</em> to dinner at the Ritz. <em>Yes</em> to a night cap at the bookshop. <em>Yes</em> to their first awkward kiss, still tinged with uncertainty. <em>Yes</em> to wandering hands and “is this ok” and “is this real” and “have you felt the same for long” and finally just a steady breathy stream of <em>yes, yes! Yes! </em>as they… well... you get the point. The angel was an absolute expert at <em>yes</em> these days.</p>
<p>Aziraphale meets Crowley’s eyes as he brings the soft fruit to his lips. He watches as Crowley inhales deeply in anticipation, ratcheting his own anticipation into overdrive, pulse racing faster still. His teeth break the thin flesh and sweet succulent juice flows over his tongue flooding his senses. He closes his eyes and moans lightly at the rush of flavor that fills his mouth. When he opens his eyes again Crowley is smirking at him. “So?” he asks.</p>
<p>Aziraphale chews slowly, savoring the perfectly ripe fruit. He swallows thickly and darts his tongue out to lick his lips clean before answering. He doesn’t miss the way Crowley’s breath hitches slightly at the sight. “<em>Divine</em>.” He sighs. And it is. It is the most delicious fruit he has ever eaten. He isn’t sure there isn’t some demonic intervention there, but he doesn’t care one way or another. He is sure that this must be how Eve felt in the garden when she took that first bite. Completely overcome. Undone. Bursting. Crowley’s smirk grows as Aziraphale brings the fruit to his lips for another bite. He was never one to eat daintily, to shy away from indulging. It was one of the things Crowley loved most about him. How he sought out his pleasure and reveled in it. Took the time to savor the experience. Aziraphale wraps his lips widely around the fruit and bites down greedily.</p>
<p>As his teeth sink into the fruit its juices spill over his chin and down his fingers and suddenly Crowley is on the kitchen island, crawling toward him, his too long legs sending the tray of biscuits skittering to the floor. Crowley fists Aziraphale’s lapel and draws him forward, eliciting a yelp from the angel. He groans as the demon brings his tongue to his throat to catch the juice that has sluiced down the curve of his adam’s apple. He slowly drags his tongue upward before closing his lips on Aziraphale’s chin, sucking the sweet juice that has collected there into his mouth. Aziraphale tilts his chin down and catches Crowley’s mouth with his own, opening eagerly for the demon. Crowley responds in kind, tongue lapping up the lingering taste, teeth nipping at his lips. Aziraphale pushes forward, chasing more, always more, but Crowley draws back onto his heels, breathless, knees digging into the countertop, and gestures to the fruit. Aziraphale complies, biting eagerly into it, sending more of the thick saccharine liquid over his lips and dribbling down his fingers.</p>
<p>He hadn’t realized that he had closed his eyes again until he is startled back into the moment as Crowley’s fingers find the waist of his trousers and yank him forward, smashing their lips together again. The kiss is long and deep and slow and <em>so good</em>. Eager tongues exploring and tasting. Memorizing the shape of one another. Aziraphale’s fingers stutter gently across Crowley’s cheekbone before finding the arm of his glasses and pulling them up and off his face. Crowley breaks the kiss and leans into him, the space between their eyebrows pressed together, noses and lips just barely brushing.</p>
<p>“I’ve always loved watching you eat, you know?” Crowley rasps against his lips before dipping his head and returning his mouth to the angel’s throat, lapping at the juices there. Aziraphale groans in response, canting his hips up against the counter, fingers finding Crowley’s hair and gripping gently. “It always felt like I was watching you get off. All of those infuriating little moans and shivers.” His teeth nip gently at the juncture of his throat and jaw and Aziraphale gasps in response, tightening his fingers in the demon’s hair. “I came thinking about those meals so many times…” He chuckles into Aziraphale’s neck. “I get hard every time you eat.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale yanks Crowley’s head back by the hair, eliciting a sharp hiss from the demon, and takes another juicy bite of the nectarine. The fruit erupts obscenely, squelching and sending juices down Aziraphale’s fingers and over his wrists, cascading down his forearms toward his rolled sleeves. A growl rolls past Crowley’s lips in response as he unconsciously bucks his hips forward on the counter, erection pressing uncomfortably against his fly. Aziraphale wraps his lips around the remaining fruit and sucks loudly, moaning and shivering.</p>
<p>“Fffuck… the things you do to me, Angel.” He circles Aziraphale’s wrist with his fingers and brings the last bite of nectarine to his own mouth before plucking the pit from Aziraphale’s fingers with his free hand and dropping it onto the counter with a clatter. Aziraphale can’t suppress another moan as Crowley sucks his index finger into his mouth, tongue circling his knuckles before snaking down to lap at the soft expanse of skin between his index and middle fingers. He pulls his mouth back just enough to fit a second finger between his lips, locking eyes with the angel and bobbing his head suggestively, tongue teasing at the seam where his fingers are pressed together.</p>
<p>Aziraphale bites back another moan as Crowley slips his legs out from under himself and wraps them around his waist, forcing them somehow, impossibly, even closer together. He pops his mouth off the angel’s fingers and leans toward his ear nipping at the sensitive skin of his neck. “If you aren’t fucking me in the next two minutes I very well may discorporate.” Forming words is becoming suddenly difficult for Aziraphale so on a shaky exhale he resorts to just nodding frantically and reaching for Crowley’s belt. With trembling but practiced fingers he deftly manages to unbuckle and unzip Crowley’s trousers. Crowley has slightly less success returning the favor, fumbling with his braces and a button fly and cursing madly under his breath. “’M gonna have to insist that you just wear leggings from here on out…”</p>
<p>Aziraphale huffs in response. “I think that may be a bit more your style, dear.”</p>
<p>Crowley pauses and considers this momentarily before raising his hand, thumb pressing against middle finger.</p>
<p>“These trousers are more than 70 years old. If you miracle them away I will stop speaking to you.”</p>
<p>“…so where would that leave us on the fucking front then…” Crowley rasps, smirking.</p>
<p>“Oh for heaven’s sake…” Aziraphale pushes Crowley’s hands away and quickly manages the (approximately one billion, according to Crowley) buttons himself. He pushes his trousers down over his own hips before gripping the waistband of Crowley’s and yanking. Crowley leverages himself up off the counter and with a minor demonic miracle they fall to his ankles where he is able to (certainly with another slightly less minor miracle) kick them off easily. They fall in a pile at Aziraphale’s feet and Crowley wraps his feet, still clad in loose knit socks, back around his waist.  </p>
<p>“You really need to join this century one of these…ffffuuck, Angel!” Crowley’s fingernails dig deep into the soft contours of Aziraphale’s back and his head drops to his shoulder as Aziraphale presses into him with two slicked fingers.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry dear, you were saying?” Aziraphale smirks as he slowly begins to pump his fingers in and out, stretching the demon.</p>
<p>“You bastar.. ah hah ah fuck.” Crowley’s cock jumps between the press of their bodies as Aziraphale finds his prostate. “More. Now. <em>Please</em>.” His breath is hot and ragged against Aziraphale’s throat. Aziraphale adds a third finger and slowly opens him up, pressing and crooking and gently scissoring his fingers until Crowley is trembling beneath him. “Ss’good. M’ready. Please…” he mumbles, face still pressed softly into the angel’s neck.</p>
<p>Aziraphale withdraws his fingers and Crowley mewls softly at the loss. “Crowley, darling, look at me. I want to see your face as I…” he trails off as Crowley lifts his face, eyes heavily lidded but narrow pupils now blown wide. Cheeks pink and lips swollen. Scarlet hair tousled and damp at the temples. He is the very embodiment of lust and Aziraphale’s heart pounds wildly as he drinks him in. “You really are the most beautiful thing in creation aren’t you?” The pink on Crowley’s cheeks climbs higher and lower simultaneously but he doesn’t avert his gaze. Instead he reaches between them and grips Aziraphale’s cock, guiding it low between his legs and pressing it against the sensitive ring of muscle there. Aziraphale lets one hand fall to Crowley’s hip where he grips firmly. The other gently cups his face, thumb tracing over his cheekbone as he slowly presses forward with his hips.</p>
<p>Crowley goes slack-jawed and his eyes roll up and back in his head as he is slowly, painstakingly filled. His head tilts back in a silent moan, exposing the long line of his throat. Aziraphale stares wide-eyed, mouth agape. How did he ever get so lucky? He wonders. His fingers trail down Crowley’s throat and come to rest across his jutting collarbone, thumb pressing gently into the hollow at the base of his throat. Inch by inch Aziraphale presses forward between Crowley’s quivering thighs, socked feet pressing into Aziraphale’s low back. Aziraphale brings his mouth down to the demon’s exposed neck and nips gently at the flushed, damp skin, sending shivers down Crowley’s spine. Crowley groans deeply as Aziraphale bottoms out and he reflexively squeezes his legs around the angel, quietly urging him on. Aziraphale breaks from sucking at his throat. “Such an impatient fiend,” he whispers against his skin. But, as always, he gives in to his demon’s desires and begins to move. Pulling back just a few inches before slowly pushing back in again. His legs tremble gently at the sensation and he grips Crowley’s hip tighter, leaving marks there. Marks he can admire later. Touch later. Kiss later. He smiles at the thought.  </p>
<p>Crowley’s cock twitches and leaks between them as a growing heat begins to build, his orgasm already simmering under the surface. “Faster, please.” He had become accustomed to begging. What, with Aziraphale preferring to draw things out and savor them whereas Crowley wanted everything hard and fast, as if the angel may change his mind at any moment. Aziraphale ignores him and continues with tortuously slow rocking movements, a smile still playing at his lips.</p>
<p>“Why rush, dear? I think I’ll keep you just like this for the rest of the afternoon.” Crowley groans in protest, hips stuttering forward seeking more. “Maybe the rest of the week,” he teases, slowly withdrawing almost entirely before pressing forward again glacially, making Crowley absolutely whine and shudder against him. “Oh, you poor thing.” He tuts as he withdraws again. Aziraphale reaches between them and grips Crowley’s cock and at the same time he snaps his hips forward. Always giving in to anything the demon wanted. Eventually at least. Crowley arches his spine, throwing his head back and <em>howling</em>.</p>
<p>“Fuck. Yes. <em>More</em>. <em>Please</em>.” Crowley had been diminished to single syllables under the angel’s touch and Aziraphale feels his own orgasm swelling in response. Crowley leans back slightly, bracing one hand on the counter behind himself for leverage as he rocks his hips forward to meet Aziraphale. The other finds the nape of Aziraphale’s neck and tangles into the marshmallow soft curls that rest there. Aziraphale pumps Crowley’s cock in short fast strokes that match the cadence of his hips. The crests of his pelvis knocking against the counter each time he drives forward, leaving reddened patches of angry skin that would surely turn purple and blue later.</p>
<p>Aziraphale tangles his fingers in Crowley’s hair and grips tightly, yanking forward to bring their mouths together. He moans around Crowley’s tongue as he feels the tell-tale signs of the demon’s impending orgasm; abs, thighs and hands quaking against him, breath coming in short huffs, eyes screwed shut tight. “Open your eyes, look at me.” Crowley, with some effort, complies and Aziraphale sighs lovingly at the sight of him. Those glowing amber pools crowded out by pupils that had dilated to the point they were nearly round. “Come for me, like this. Just like this.”</p>
<p>“Fuck, angel,” is all he manages before he spills over Aziraphale’s hand and across their still clothed bellies. His orgasm rolls over his body in waves and he spasms tightly around Aziraphale’s cock. Aziraphale only lasts another handful of thrusts before he follows Crowley, hips losing all rhythm and knees nearly buckling beneath him. He wraps both arms around Crowley’s waist and tugs him close. They cling to one another as they ride out their orgasms together, fingers gripping one another tightly. As their breathing and heartbeats begin to return to normal Aziraphale gently slips out of Crowley but keeps him wrapped tightly in his arms. He rests his face against the demon’s chest and breathes him in. Seriously, he wonders, how did he get so <em>lucky</em>?</p>
<p>At last Crowley breaks the silence. “Should we clean up our way or the human way?”</p>
<p>“I was always fond of the idea of having a hot bath together.” Aziraphale looks up with a lopsided smile.</p>
<p>Crowley snaps his fingers and a dense cloud of lavender scented steam spills out of the doorway down the hall. “Hot bath it is.”</p>
<p>“Thank you for the nectarine, darling. It really was absolutely heavenly.”</p>
<p>Crowley gives him a devilish grin. “Oh, believe me. The pleasure was all mine, angel.”</p>
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